


Hope

by El_Loopy



Category: Aladdin (2019)
Genre: A whole lot of wishing, Angst and Feels, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 11:03:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21135659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/El_Loopy/pseuds/El_Loopy
Summary: The night before Jasmine's wedding and they are both in the garden below her balcony. Both full of sorrow. Both searching for hope.





	Hope

The night was dark, as dark as their future appeared, and Dalia sat on the edge of the fountain below her mistress' balcony, counting wishes.

A Shooting Star.

A Wishing Well.

All nonsense, all utterly ridiculous, until a Genie had appeared in the Throne Room and with scant few words beginning with those fateful two from the mouth of that odious Jafar and their lives had started to disintegrate. So, if wishes were their downfall, they owed it to be the salvation.

"I am so sorry."

The voice drifted out of the dark and the shadows around the edge of the courtyard. A deep voice, a rich voice. His voice.

Dalia looked up from her contemplation of the silent fountain, eyes searching the shadows for the shape of him…or what she thought of as the shape of him. Her perceptions of him had been considerably challenged recently. Standing in the throne room with that creature stealing everything her mistress held dear, that she held dear, taking apart their world piece by piece, and standing (floating!) next to the thief had been him. The man (no, not a man…) who'd met her eyes across the room and smiled at her like that with a cheeky quirk. Had presented her with flowers and stumbled and blushed, awkward and endearing, and invited her for a stroll. Had kissed her goodnight, oh, the lightest of brushes, that made her blood warm and left her dreaming; of salt-stained air, the creak and whisper of timbers and a sky stretching endlessly, ebony black and woven generously with stars. The shock as she stared and recognised him had paralysed her so utterly. His eyes had been so sorrowful, as sorrowful as his voice now, as sorrowful as she felt on her inside and could not express. Oh, the roar of his voice as the serpent had hurt her! She'd heard it even through the pain that had writhed in her blood. That a magical being would roar like that for her…

She found what she looked for, an outline in the darkness. A normal (although tall, yes, she likes that he is tall) human outline. Neither giant nor floating.

Dalia didn't hesitate. With casual steps for the benefit of any observer she approached the archway where he hid and the stone bench beneath. The scent of the jasmine creeping over the stone infused the warm night air and she wished (wished, yes, if only…) that this were something that wasn't poisoned with fear and pain and sorrow. Slowly she lowered herself to the bench, leaning back on her hands. From here she could see the princess' balcony. She wasn't allowed to see her. How different this should have been, the night before the wedding day. There should be smiles and laughter and dreaming, not a locked, guarded door and sickness eating at her stomach. Dalia shut her eyes, shut in the pain. Jasmine was doing this for the sultan, but also for her. Her handmaiden.

"I don't understand what you're sorry for." She had wanted the words to come out strong and whole, but instead they were broken. Her lips cracked.

She felt him settle next to her, his back to the courtyard so they faced in opposite directions. His fingers rested so close to her own she wondered if he couldn't help it.

"For all of this," he murmured, facing the wall. "This is all my doing after all."

Dalia shook her head slightly and sat up so she could angle her body to look at him. He did not look at her, but his profile was grieved, the human body hollowed out.

"Seems to me it's the doing of the…" she couldn't say man, "the one who made the wishes."

Now he turned his head to hers and his expression was the same as the one in the throne room. He was no different. They were one, the all powerful magical being, the charmer with the winning smile, and the man who was crumpled beside her.

"Its not like you can say no."

It was a statement and a question and a whispered search for hope that maybe he could tell her a loophole. Instead he lifted the hand that was furthest away and tapped the bracelet that encircled the wrist nearest.

"No. I can't."

There was so much longing and pain there it almost suffocated her. Her gaze followed his fingers to the gold encompassing his wrists and she realised that she'd never seen him without them. Not as a human. Not as a Genie. Her own fingers reached out and brushed the ornately carved metal, skipping over the bumps and whorls. Beautifully crafted manacles with invisible chains. Her heart gave a nasty wrench and she withdrew her fingers.

"So, you have to do everything he says?" Again, it wasn't really a question but he answered like it was.

"Everything he wishes." There was a bitterness there. "He rubs the lamp and says, 'I wish'," the Genie gave a shudder, "and I have to obey."

"So, the rest of the time…"

"I'm tied to the lamp. I'm supposed to stay with the lamp. In the lamp." His volume trailed off, but she could have sworn he muttered something about brass.

Dalia tilted her head thoughtfully, watching him as he drowned under his own perceived failings. Her lips curled softly, heart lightening by a single shadow.

"But you can leave the lamp whenever you want without permission from your Master?" There was a teasing reprimand in her tone and the smile he flashed her was worth it. He tilted his head a little to one side as he responded.

"Well…" drawing the word out slowly, "sort of a grey area there. What he doesn't know, right?"

She took a breath, making sure her eyes were locked solidly on his before she added, "Like sending the carpet after Ali…Aladdin?"

His eyes widened. Oh, what was that look he was giving her? Fear?

"You're very observant…"

"Jafar isn't." The tension eased a little from his shoulders, his face, and her heart gave a stutter in response. Grabbing one hand with the other she held them still in her lap to prevent herself reaching out, focused her gaze on them to stop it betraying her.

"I never would have done it, you know."

There was a wistfulness, an almost regret.

"Done what?"

He shook his head, the breath of an ironic laugh escaping.

"Led you on like that. Gone for a stroll. Given you flowers."

That hurt. There was a stinging snap to her voice as she bit out, "Oh?"

He didn't seem to notice. His gaze was far away.

"It wasn't fair…on you, but the kid…the kid had promised to free me, with his final wish." Her hands unclasped; the hurt faded out. "I should have waited until it was final, until he'd released me, but I saw you…" and he looked at her. He looked at her and she saw it all on his face, every feeling, every dream, and if she hadn't known it before, she did now. It wrapped around her and tied her to him, bonded his heart to hers. "I saw you," his voice dropped to a mere whisper, "and…I guess…I had hope…and I didn't want to miss this. Miss you."

Right then he was more human than the man he was forced to call Master.

His breath shuddered out and she realised she was leaning towards him.

"So, I'm sorry for that."

She shook her head just once, fiercely.

"No. Don't be."

The moment lengthened, extended, spooled out into the warmth of the night. Her fingers reached out to touch his face but halted just before, hovering in the air, and pain flashed through his eyes in misunderstanding.

"Can I see you," she asked before he could pull away, "without…"

"See me blue, you mean?" There was a wry humour under the words, layered with bitterness. Dalia nodded. He hesitated so long she thought he would refuse and then his skin…shimmered. It wasn't instantaneous. His human form merged into his Genie one like a rising sun. Colours gradually blending, fading out and fading in until before her was the Mystical Being from the throne room. The Being that was still him.

Her fingers reached out again and this time touched his cheek. It didn't feel like human skin, there was no blood warmth to it, no roughness from the harsh treatment of sun and sand. Her fingers moved instinctively over the curve of his cheek, the edge of his jaw, flowing down his neck. His skin was cool but not cold, like sun warmed water in an evening, like the temperature of the night around them. There was a smoothness to it that was like the marble of the palace and yet not. He was at once entirely solid and entirely insubstantial. Both unyielding stone and curling smoke. Something inside her twisted, shuddered as it tried to understand, tried to place him in a box, but she shut it down. He was incomparable. Incomprehensible. She could feel the magic dancing over her skin, starting at her fingers, trickling up her arm and she wondered if kissing him…

"Stop."

Raw. Commanding.

She stopped, came back to herself in a blink. He had flashed back to his human skin, a look of fierce wonder on his face as he looked at her. She hadn't realised she'd been leaning in, had moved so close their sides pressed together. His hands encircled her wrists as though he'd had to physically halt their progress.

Dalia knew she was blushing from the heat stinging her cheeks.

"Sorry…I…"

"I didn't mean to…"

They spoke simultaneously and stopped abruptly. She nodded her head at him. His eyes were so sad. She wondered if hers looked the same.

"Dalia," it sounded like a caress goodbye and her stomach yawned emptily. "I can't. We can't. It wouldn't be…right when I…"

So many ways to finish that sentence. When I'm an immortal being and you're human. When I might be put back in the lamp for another thousand years. When I might be forced to kill you all tomorrow.

"I shouldn't have kissed you earlier…but…"

"I know," she stopped him with a grip of her hands on his. "I understand. I just wish…" She stopped herself and his grin was lop-sided, charming and self-deprecating.

"If only the Genie got the wishes." He tried to sound amused, but his voice cracked, and she tugged him to herself, pressed her forehead to his, squeezed her eyes shut and willed all her feelings to him. She wondered if he heard them.

"Maybe Aladdin…" she whispered and felt the slight shift in his position.

"Yeah, maybe." They drew apart and the hope on his face under the pain tore at her.

"There's still time."

Convincing him or herself? But the shadows in his eyes lightened a fraction and his smile became something wonderful as he directed it at her. Entirely wonderous.

"There is, isn't there."

Her fingers squeezed his once more before she stood and stepped away.

"I'm not saying goodbye."

His features were too deep in shadows now to see properly but there was a smile in the breath he took and exhaled.

"Good night, then."

"Goodnight." She inclined her head and when she raised it he was gone.

The rest of the night she spent in silent vigil over her princess' room, searching the night sky for some other way to make a wish that could save them all, wondering if hope was enough.


End file.
